I Lived with You

I for Novello was principally a stage actor and he only made a handful of film appearances in the sound era.In fact it has to be said watching this film that he looks every bit the stage star.Every time he appears on screen the focus is really on him.He plays a Russian Prince who has found his way to London with a cache of priceless jewels.He is discovered at the maze at Hampton Court by Ursula Jeans who decides to take him home to her parents home where he is invited to stay.This disrupts everyone including young her boyfriend,an impossibly young Jack Hawkinns and her younger sister,Ida Lupino.He is used by the film as a sort of device to solve all of the characters problems,not the least being that of Elliott Markeham who has becomec romanticallybinvolved with his secretary,who is determined to take him for all that he has.

Despite the reservations one has to have when a Russian prince has a Welsh accent barely disguised and a character disappears after a couple of scenes (young Albert the son takes 10 shillings to place a deposit on a wireless and is never seen again), this film is really sweet and extremely funny. To those of us who are familiar with Novello as a composer of luscious melodies of the likes of We'll Gather Lilacs it shows a new side to his genius. Great fun, especially the ladies' tea party and the early scenes in Hampton Court Maze.

Ursula Jeans meets a very elegant, very Russian Ivor Novello. He's broke, so she takes him home to her family's middle-class house, until he gets back on his feet. That will be a problem, because he's a Russian prince, and so not fitted for anything. All he has is a few sets of jewels worth thousands of quids. Since they were gift from the late Tsar, he can't spend them on himself. He can spend them on his new family, whose settled, decent lives he turns topsy-turvy.

It's based on Novello's stage hit, and director Maurice Elvey does a fine job of opening it up, with a camera that moves, quick cuts, and close-ups. there are some wonderfully silly scenes, like the one where Novello gets the local snobs drunk on vodka-laced tea. Yet the serious segments are curiously at odds with the crazy-comic ones; they are two sets of stage conventions that do not mix well.

It's a bit odd to see this out of Twickenham. That production company had been built on a series of quota quickies, subsidized by American companies who needed British production to play alongside their imported movies to comply with British law. the larger British integrated studios found the small studio useful for providing cheap second features to run in their big houses. the problem was that owner Julius Hagen had grown weary of the thin profit margins, and aware of the immense profits from A productions. So he cut back on the bread-and-butter productions and tried for prestige... and found himself shut out by the big, integrated companies, in Britain and the U.S.

I've never seen Ivor Novello like this before. Everything I've seen him in always seemed hammy, melodramatic, and over the top but here he is in a comic role and throwing out lines like Paul O'Grady - he even looks a bit like him. Quite a revelation. Mr Novello was gay at a time when you couldn't be out in the open about it apart from in theatrical circles and, even though this isn't a gay character he's playing, his performance is quite camp. I don't know how well this film did at the box office but I know this was quite a successful play on stage in London's West End. It's a shame he didn't do more films like this.

An early feather in the cap of Julius Hagen's nascent Twickenham Films is this valuable screen record of Ivor Novello's 1932 West End hit.

There's a bit of unobtrusive opening out - notably the scene shot in Hampton Court maze where hero and heroine first meet - but the play's the thing, complete with dialogue and situations that would not have got past the Hays Office the following year; and are now a bit gamy for 21st Century sensibilities.

The predominantly female cast includes the young Ursula Jeans and Ida Lupino ("She's charming! Is she still a good girl?") and preserves for posterity the extraordinary Cicely Oates - who died the year my father was born aged only 45 not long after featuring in a much smaller role in Hitchcock's original version of 'The Man Who Knew Too Much' - as "Little Mrs Sunshine".